


Spate

by janus_queen



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Breeding Kink, Established Relationship, F/F, Female My Unit | Byleth, Futa Rhea, Futanari, Mother Complex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Sort-of incest, Sothis is probably screaming but oh well sucks for her, pissing inside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:29:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25852891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janus_queen/pseuds/janus_queen
Summary: After passing out during tea time, Byleth wakes up to a naked Rhea. Because fucking after fainting is a great idea.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Rhea
Comments: 14
Kudos: 88





	Spate

**Author's Note:**

> I tagged this fic, but here's a final warning and a disambiguation. This fic contains:  
> -Futa!Rhea. She's got a schlong and a hooha, fun!  
> -Whatever you get when you throw Rhea's mommy issues, a mother complex, Byleth's fat titties, and Sothis's residence in Byleth's heart hotel in a crock pot for 7 hours.  
> -A free breeding kink with your Rhea Deluxe.  
> -Byleth's cooch gettin' pissed in because why not?  
> -Byleth just vibing tbh.

Byleth’s mind is a fog of professorial duties and combat—normal for when she’s teetering between sleep and consciousness. “It's no good,” a voice—Rhea’s voice, Byleth quickly recognizes—croons. “You are an excellent instructor, tending to the needs of your students in your free time…” Lithe but strong fingers massage Byleth’s scalp, nearly lulling her back to sleep. “But you must take time for yourself to relax.” A hum of recognition hardly slips past Byleth’s lips. Her body feels like lead. Or rubber, stretched thin and tense. Even her eyelids seem sealed shut, defying her desire for sunlight. But somehow, she persists against her traitorous body, pushing her head up into Rhea’s hand and opening her eyes to see no sun, just the Archbishop’s bed in candlelight.

“You lost consciousness during our tea time, of all things,” Rhea informs, tilting Byleth’s head toward her. Byleth’s eyes widen at the sight of her bare body, delectably soft and inviting as always. “You should be fine now. Manuela and I both examined and treated you.” That would explain the loosely tied infirmary gown threatening to slip off at any moment. Judging by Rhea’s choice of non-dress, that may just be the intent. Byleth had thought Rhea’s sexual interest in her strange at first, considering the pious woman’s status. But, she’d concluded, Rhea is as much flesh and blood as anyone. And, as things turned out, quite needy.

Byleth’s eyes follow Rhea’s resplendent gold-kissed shoulders down to the curve of her hip, then naturally falls to her thighs and the clearly stimulated member between them, all the more pronounced by dancing shadows. Sometimes Byleth wonders how long Rhea had gone without a partner before her, or if she’d perhaps had some manner of concubines to help with relief, but her unbridled enthusiasm each time they copulate suggests their relations are something unique. Rhea craves her something ravenous, and ensures to take—and to give—all she can at any given opportunity. Byleth has no grievances, as the rush of endorphins is an addiction for her as well, and Rhea continuously vows that pregnancy would be the opposite of an issue. She wants to breed Byleth, and for all the twisted aspects of their relationship, not to mention the inconveniences that come with carrying a child, Byleth can’t say she dislikes the idea.

‘Professor,’ Rhea whispers, gently pulling Byleth’s head to her chest. She smells like lilies and petrichor, the warmth of her skin so comfortably temptuous. “As embarrassing as this is to admit, I may lose control of myself soon. Please, I beg of you. Allow me your body.” Byleth has always found that desperation strangely endearing. It’s such a stark contrast from Rhea’s professional mannerisms. It could be considered a valuable secret, and what makes something valuable is the fact that it is cherished. Byleth nods into the supple flesh of Rhea’s breast and gives an affirmative, “Mhm.” Her body still feels rocklike for the most part, but Rhea seems keenly aware.

“You needn't move a muscle,” Rhea says, delicately letting Byleth’s head back down into goose-down pillows. One good tug casts aside the loose gown. “Thank you, Byleth.” With that, Rhea repositions herself to straddle Byleth’s waist, cock hot on top of the professor’s stomach as eager hands reach for full breasts and soft lips meet with rough fervor. Rhea’s kisses are deep, hungry, but never suffocating. Byleth breathes her in, green hues of hair mingling as the mild, sweet taste of Rhea’s lips return home to her. She can’t say she independently seeks out Rhea’s touch often, but when their bodies begin this dance of theirs, her desire wells up and overflows. Byleth’s toes curl at Rhea’s delicate pinches of her stiffened nipples. Diligent fingertips roll them in circles, slow and precise. Byleth exhales with quiet gratitude as familiar pleasure simmers in her stomach, just as much arousal as it is simple joy. The attentive touch had been overwhelming the first time, but now it fills a certain cavity in her unbeating heart. Rhea treats her to a biting, lingering kiss before peppering her jawline with amorous whispers of, “Byleth.” Her name sounds lovely coming from Rhea’s mouth, Byleth thinks—though she hasn’t much to compare it to; everyone simply calls her, “Professor.” But here? Here, she is that, and she is also Rhea’s lover; here she is worshipped as if she is the very Goddess housed within her, somewhere…

Occasionally, Byleth wonders the extent to which Rhea’s longing for Sothis plays into the relationship they’ve forged. It’s a complicated thing—far too complicated for them to sit and think deeply about in the midst of their passion, Rhea had assured her—so Byleth gladly gives up her questions and instead gives in to the palms now sliding down to her abdomen. “You are truly, truly marvelous,” Rhea whispers against her collarbone before straightening her back and sitting upright with a motion that makes her hair sway in a way that flatters her neck and breasts. Her tender gaze conveys the exact thing Byleth feels—namely the heat building between her legs, also mirrored by droplets slowly leaking from Rhea’s member. They’re warm on Byleth’s stomach, then cold; a microcosm of the flames that ignite when she and Rhea come together and the lull between each meeting.

As if she can read Byleth’s red but otherwise neutral face, Rhea nods and resituates herself to lie flat on her stomach between Byleth’s legs, lifting each muscular limb gingerly and letting each heel rest on her shoulder blades. A careful finger presses against Byleth’s slit. It moves ever so slightly to the left, then to the right, revealing only slight glimpses of glistening folds. An impatient second finger joins and spreads Byleth’s lips for Rhea’s viewing pleasure. Rhea’s eyes twinkle in the flickering light, her smiling lips also parting in an expression of wonder at the beauty of Byleth’s most sensitive skin. “Oh,  _ Byleth.”  _ Rhea takes an audible, shuddering breath that in turn makes the hairs on Byleth’s body stand on end with anticipation.

“Byleth,” Rhea sighs again, and then her nose is pressed to Byleth’s mound and she’s feasting—tongue running over Byleth’s folds with both diligence and a messy insatiability that betrays the propriety of her position at the monastery. She tastes Byleth with desperation, fingers retreating to the sheets and grabbing them as if to keep them from prodding inside Byleth before she’s ready. But Byleth is ready; ready enough for the pleasure to trivialize any potential pain. She’d bled the very first time, but had no idea until after. She recalls the fuss Rhea had made fondly, but not any pain. Just Rhea, warm, filling her wholly. The memory slips away like grains of sand in the tide as Rhea takes her clit between damp, silken lips and sucks with a covetous ambition. Byleth bends to her, literally, her heavy body curling into the intense sensation and then making a weak attempt to squirm away as thoughtless stutters spill from the back of her throat in chorus with Rhea’s hums of delectation. Her breath catches, then eases as Rhea grants her a moment of partial respite with a flurry of kisses. The moment is short-lived; Rhea’s fists release the white silk and a singular digit slinks inside Byleth with ease. Her finger moves subtly, coaxing Byleth deeper into pleasure as her tongue, teeth, and lips tend earnestly to her love. “Byleth,” she can’t seem to stop murmuring, the husky edge to her voice a giveaway of her arousal. It makes Byleth’s blood rush, burning under her skin.

“I need you,” Rhea whimpers. “I need my—” She stops herself short, biting her lip as she sits up on her knees with her cock heavy between her legs and leaking. Byleth’s feet fall gracefully to the sheets, the limited mobility she has all focused on chasing the soaking finger gradually slipping away from her. “Soon, Mother,” Rhea says, her slip of tongue causing her eyes to dilate. “That is, I…” But this happens frequently. It’s a simple fact of the matter. Like Rhea had said, it’s not something to dwell on in such heated moments. Sometimes Rhea needs Byleth. Sometimes she needs Sothis. And sometimes she needs both. “Need Mommy?” Byleth asks with the vaguest of smirks, sparking something primal within the Archbishop.

“Fuck,” Rhea says under her breath. Her delicate hands grip her member. “Yes… Yes, I do. But I am unsure that I can remain conscientious, Mother.”

“Don’t,” Byleth tells her nonchalantly. She lifts her brow in the slightest, extending a direct invitation. “Use me.”

With that permission granted, Rhea can no longer restrain herself. She guides the tip of her cock to where her finger had been so cautiously teasing Byleth only moments ago. Byleth is wet for her, latericeous and absolutely glowing in this light, so utterly perfect and an honor to watch as Rhea pushes inside; just a few inches at first, and Byleth’s chest rises with a gasp. Rhea wills a gentle thrust as her hands come to a rest at Byleth’s waist, but her hips lurch forward. A famished ache in her cock and in her quim overpowers her temperance and she pushes deeper, deeper until Byleth has taken her fully, the professor’s inner walls tight, wet, and so, so warm around her. Despite a brief grimace, Byleth nods, dismissing any would-be deterrence. “Thank you,” Rhea says, pulling out partially. She thrusts back in, the rush of pleasure causing her to tilt her head back. “Thank you, Mother.”

Byleth purrs with satisfaction, her response to the stimulation subdued as always but honest. It shows in the half-lidded expression she looks at Rhea with, which only serves as further encouragement. Rhea can’t take it; her hips buck away, her movements almost violent in their ebullience. “Fuck,” she says again, her voice little more than a growl. “Fuck, Mommy…!” Byleth feels Rhea swell, torrid arousal seeping out inside of her. Rhea towers over her, leaning closer as she grips the fabric on either side of Byleth’s shoulders and shifts her balance. “I’m going to make you pregnant,” Rhea says with a wavering breath, dazed eyes boring into Byleth’s gaze. “I’ll fill you up, Mommy. I’ll fill you, and—” She swallows, shivering in a fresh wave of appetence. “I will  _ breed  _ you, Mommy. And once you’re nice and pregnant, I’ll keep fucking you and filling you up every day. Every night.” A brazen keening fills the room, Rhea’s delight more prominent than Byleth has ever seen. She’s undone now, her truest self claiming her greatest desire. Byleth embraces Rhea’s indulgence, giving herself even more to the steady rhythm pounding her into these familiar silken sheets.

“Take it, Byleth,” Rhea pants with authority. “I’m coming. I’m coming, Mommy.” Seconds later, her muscles all tense, and just as she’d declared, she empties her seed deep inside her dear professor with a breathless cry. The hot fluid fills Byleth up, quickly leaking out and rolling down her skin onto Rhea’s sheets. Rhea lowers her body and rests flush against Byleth’s skin, her hips still rocking tamely to push Byleth to her climax, to the side of bliss. Her cock shrinks as she empties herself and each movement causes more of her seed to spill onto the sheets, but her subtle maneuvers slowly but surely cause Byleth’s already erratic breathing to completely lose its rhythm, until finally that velvety voice of hers cracks with majestic gratification. Rhea smiles as Byleth trembles under her, squeezing her, needing her.

Then, quiet. Rhea laggardly massages Byleth’s scalp with her fingertips as their breathing regulates, eventually falling into sync. Why, Rhea could stay like this forever...but a bladder is a bladder. The temptation to fill Byleth up even more capers about her mind, but that degree of crudeness may be too much for even her patient, understanding lover. She attempts to push herself up—only for Byleth to seize her arms and hold her in place. “Stay with me,” Byleth says sweetly. Rhea is inclined to give in to her simple request. Who wouldn’t love to?

A wistful sigh leaves Rhea’s lips. “I am afraid my bladder has other plans, my love.” But Byleth doesn’t budge, instead looking into Rhea’s eyes with that silent, fiery gaze that denotes her firm stance on something—whether it’s not to go through with a plan...or to absolutely, without a second thought, go right ahead. In this case it’s the latter, and the second thought Rhea dares to think makes her cock twitch.

So be it, then. She’ll fill Byleth again. “I concede,” Rhea says, resting her weight once more on top of her love. “I’ll stay with you. I’ll stay with you always, Mother.” She sighs into Byleth’s ear, then winces with embarrassment as her cock twitches again, eliciting a giggle from her partner. It soothes her; that quiet, amused noise is calming enough for her to let go. Rhea moans faintly as she relieves herself, a residual wave of pleasure washing through her as she does so. Byleth gasps at the warmth, at the feeling of being filled once more. The expelled fluid trickles out, its heat fleeting but the intimacy of their rendezvous lingering heavily in this afterglow. Rhea kisses Byleth’s temple, her tongue on the verge of confessing just how much she’d been wanting to do that, how much she wishes she could fill Byleth up with her seed over and over and over again...but she pushes her fantasies aside and finds contentment in her favorable reality: comfortably in bed, snug inside the one she loves, with an empty bladder and not a care in the world.

It is truly a blessing that Rhea’s personal attendants are so adept at getting stains out of fabric, and even more so at keeping secrets.


End file.
